


The Road Behind You

by buckysbears (DrZebra)



Series: Let Us Love [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Past Child Abuse, adoption au, childhood AU, mama may
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7092910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrZebra/pseuds/buckysbears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She should’ve put the pieces together. She’d seen it before, just from afar, working cases. Stupid. She should’ve known, should’ve been paying more attention. </i>
</p>
<p>May learns about Skye's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road Behind You

**Author's Note:**

> From [this AU](http://buckysbears.tumblr.com/post/145084064049/hey-idk-if-youre-still-taking-these-but). That link gives some background on the characters and timeline, if you haven't had a chance to read it yet. 
> 
> This is from an anonymous prompt. Anon wanted to see a darker fic where one of Skye's previous families were child molesters. I tried to keep the tone consistent with the other ones, but that sort of abuse is discussed in this fic in a non graphic way, so feel free to skip this one if that's going to be upsetting or triggering in any way. This won't affect the other stories in this series. Contact me if you want an abridged version of what happens in this fic.

Her first clue should’ve been that Skye wouldn’t change in front of her. She’s not exactly a shy kid, but whenever she’s changing she’ll shove May out of the room (not that May puts up a fight), lock the door, and not unlock it until she’s completely dressed, socks and all. The other kids don’t mind May being in the room, only Skye. She figures it’s a quirk. The kids have plenty of those.

She should’ve known better.

When she finds out, it’s a gorgeous day, which feels wrong when she thinks back on it. She and Skye are at the park, the other kids over at friends’ houses. She’s reading a book. It’s nice. Peaceful.

And then the sound of sobbing hits her ears, and her head snaps up, and then Skye is barreling into her on the bench, clambering into her lap. She immediately pushes her away to check for injuries, and then pulls her against her chest when she finds none.

“Skye, what’s wrong?”

Skye doesn’t respond, just cries into her shoulder. May rocks her and waits for it to pass. She’d be more panicked if Skye was a less emotional kid, but sobbing fits are not uncommon, nor are other types of fits. At first May had thought her a stoic kid, but the emotions had come out as she’d gotten more comfortable. The smallest things can set her off, but it had taken her ages not to lock herself in her room whenever she’d have a bad reaction to something, trying to hide from trouble. May is just glad she’s trusted with Skye’s emotions now, she hadn’t been sure she’d ever earn that.

Eventually the sobs simmer down to sniffles, and the grip Skye has on her shirt eases up.

May bounces her a little, trying to get her attention. “What happened?”

“Miles kissed me.”

“Oh,” May says, not sure what she was expecting. Skye’s way too young to be kissing boys, isn’t she? May isn’t sure, she doesn’t know a lot about kids. She’s been playing this by ear. “Well I can see you didn’t like it.”

“No,” Skye responds with a sigh, resting her head on May’s shoulder. “I don’t like it when people kiss me.”

A cold little tendril of dread curls its way through May’s chest, and it may very well be misplaced, but she’s learned over the years to listen when her body tells her something is wrong. She makes sure to keep her voice even, light. “Who else has kissed you?”

Skye lifts her head, staring at May for a few long seconds, and then glances around, her voice lowering. “Mr. Walters.”

May can’t help it, she stands up and starts walking toward home, Skye balanced on her hip, not resisting the need to move. If she speaks now it’ll come out all wrong, she knows, as angry as she feels, and this is a delicate situation. The sun beats down on them, hot pinpricks on her skin. She’s not sure she has the words for what she needs to say, she didn’t have any time to prepare. Suddenly it’s Phil she’s mad at, for not warning her about this. At least with Fitz she’d known something had happened.

Her chest aches, her hip aches. Skye is watching her carefully.

“Mommy?” Skye starts, voice controlled. “Are you mad at me?”

May deflates a little, her purposeful march faltering. “No, baby. I’m sorry, it’s not you I’m mad at.”

“Should I not have told? He told me not to tell.” Skye’s thumb comes up to hover above her bottom lip, and May eases it away. Skye has always seemed very childish for her age, stuck a few years too young, and it makes sense now. Trauma response. (May should probably put her down, not helping the situation, but she can’t seem to let go.)

She should’ve put the pieces together. She’d seen it before, just from afar, working cases. Stupid. She should’ve known, should’ve been paying more attention.

“It’s good that you told me.”

“Yeah?” Skye asks, and it’s clear that May has made her nervous. She kicks herself internally. “And you’re not mad, you promise?”

“I’m not mad at you, I promise.” This, of all things, has not been taken away from Skye. The childish belief that promises were sacred things, only applied to absolute truths. May had made a lot of promises over the last eight months, and she doesn’t intend on breaking any of them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“S’okay.”

“No, it’s not. That’s the last thing I want to do.” May gentles her voice. “This is something that we need to talk about, though.”

“Oh.” Skye lays her head on May’s shoulder, curling closer. “Okay.”

“How often did that happen?”

“Dunno,” Skye mumbles, “Most days.”

Skye was with the Walters, two families before Fury, for months. She must’ve been what? Four, five? May’s jaw strains with the effort of not clenching. “Did he do anything else to you?”

Skye picks off a piece of pollen that’s fallen on May’s shirt, holding it out to let it blow away in the breeze. “He’d grab me real hard. It hurt. It’d leave bruises.”

“Where did he grab you?”

Skye shrugs. “My arms. And my ribs.”

May’s shoulders drop, just by a fraction, willing her mind to stop imagining worse things. “Okay.” She wets her lips. “He shouldn’t have been doing that to you, Skye. That was very bad of him.”

Skye’s brow furrows. “I thought so. Cause he wanted to hide it, even from Mrs. Walters.”

May lets out a little sigh, glad that this isn’t something she’s going to have to convince her of. But Skye is very perceptive like that—she doesn’t do as well in academics as Fitz or Jemma, but she knows people, and is good at reading them. May doesn’t know if Skye is just naturally suspicious, or if it’s something she learned, and she wishes she didn’t have to be, but it seems in some areas it’s served her well.

“If I ever touched you in a way you didn’t like, would you tell me?”

Skye thinks about it for a moment. “…Yeah.”

“You don’t sound sure, baby. I need you to be sure.”

“I won’t get in trouble?” Skye confirms.

“You’re never going to get in trouble for having boundaries. Your body belongs to you, and everyone else needs to respect that.”

Skye is quiet, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t like it when you put your hand on my neck when we’re walking places,” she eventually admits.

May nods. “Okay, I won’t do that anymore.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’ll do my best to remember, but if I forget then just remind me, and I’ll stop.”

Skye sighs happily. “You’re the best.”

The compliment makes May feel warm, or at least a little better than she was, but the sentiment behind it still worries her. “People respecting your boundaries should be a minimum requirement for interacting with you. If they’re doing something to you that you don’t like when they know you don’t like it, then you don’t have to keep interacting with them, or you can tell someone else to get them to stop. That goes for one of your friends or an adult, or even me.”

That gets a nod out of Skye, her lips pursed in contemplation. “What about,” she thinks for a moment, “What about when you make me eat lots of broccoli? Or when you give me apple juice and say it’s soda? I don’t like that.”

May snorts, surprised. “Not quite the same thing.”

“Damn,” Skye whispers, and May bites her tongue to keep from laughing.

“Do you understand what I’m saying, though?”

“That if I don’t like what someone is doing to me I can tell them to stop, and if they keep doing it I can tell someone else.”

“Right. Good girl.” They turn onto their street, almost home. “I’m sorry for cutting our park trip short.”

Skye looks at her, considering. May can practically see the wheels turning in her head. “You know what would make me feel a lot better?”

“What?” May asks cautiously.

“If we played Lilo and Stitch, and you did the voice.”

May groans, a smile at the edges of her mouth, though her chest still feels heavy. “I’m bad at the voice.”

Skye grins. “I know, that’s what makes me feel better.”

“Only if you promise we can keep talking about this later.”

Skye hums. “Not today?”

“That’s fine, not today.”

“Okay. Deal.”

May sighs. The things she does for these kids.

 

-

 

The next day, while all the kids are at school, May bursts into Phil’s office, a litany of “ma’am, ma’am you need an appointment- ma’am-“ following her down the hallway.

Phil gives her a placid smile as she enters. “Mel.”

“You could’ve warned me, Phil,” she snaps.

He shuffles some papers on his desk to the side. “About what?”

“That Skye was molested.”

Phil blanches, and it throws May off balance, losing a little of the heat she’d come in with. “What?”

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself. “You didn’t know.”

“What are you talking about, Melinda?”

She falters in the doorway, and then takes a seat in front of his desk. “Mr. Walters. He’d rough her up and kiss her. I thought you knew.”

He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, face tight. “She was taken out of the Walters’ home because they were having financial troubles.”

“Well she should’ve been taken out for a different reason.”

He sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “She never said anything.”

May clenches her jaw. “She shouldn’t have had to. Someone should’ve noticed.”

“I agree.”

She turns away from him, eyes running over the memorabilia on his wall for what feels like the hundredth time.

“I really didn’t know,” he says, a note of defeat in his tone. “I never suspected.”

“I know.” She’s quiet for a long moment, working against something tight in her throat. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out for this.”

He watches her carefully. “What do you mean?”

“I just- I wonder if taking them in was the right choice. If there isn’t someone better for them that I’m keeping them away from, someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“Mellie-“

“Phil, don’t-“

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to them.”

Her eyes rake over his face, but he looks truthful as ever. “Phil,” she says, her tone more desperate than she’d like.

“Those kids love you. Are you really thinking about giving them up?”

“No,” she says immediately, her heart gone cold at the very thought. “No, that’s not what I’m saying, I-“ She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know, Phil, I just feel like I need more training for this.”

“I’ve had the training.” He shrugs. “I still don’t feel prepared. I don’t think anything can prepare you, to have to have that kind of conversation.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” May admits. “And this isn’t the kind of thing I can afford to screw up. I’ve done it before and I can’t- I can’t do that again.”

“This is a different situation, Melinda,” Phil says. “You’ve been talking things out with Fitz, and that’s been going well. He says it’s really been helping him, more than the therapist ever did.”

She looks down. “He’s a good kid. They’re all good kids.”

“And you should see the way they look at you.” He smiles kindly, and she hates and loves that smile. “Stars in their eyes, I swear.”

Her lips quirk. “Well, now you’re just making things up.”

“Cross my heart.” He makes his way to the front of his desk, leans against it and holds his arms out. “C’mere.”

She’s not really a hugger, but it’s been a long week. She gets up from the chair with a sigh, only somewhat for show, and leans into him as he wraps his arms around her back.

“Does it get easier?” she asks.

Phil gives a pained chuckle. “Not remotely. You’ve got middle school coming up, which is tough for everybody. And sooner than you’d think—college.”

She groans. “Fitz and Jemma are already talking about college. Antoine doesn’t want to go, says he wants to ‘get a feel for the work force’.”

Phil snorts. “Sounds like them.”

She pulls away, watching his face, feeling more vulnerable than she has in a long time. “Do you think I’d be a good mom?”

“I think you’re already a great mom.”

She purses her lips, quiet for a moment, evaluating, and then nods, feeling a little lighter. “Okay.”

He rubs her shoulder and then moves to sit back in his chair, giving her the space he knows she needs. “So have you pulled any good pranks on them lately?”

May smiles.


End file.
